


tommy just died wtf

by Edgar_Allen_No



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Clay | Dream Kills TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead Wilbur Soot, Death, Gen, Idk how to feel, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, Kinda, Light Angst, Lots of Death talk, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), c!dream is a bitch, fuck c!dream, its a little bittersweet, kind of, schlatt is mentioned / referenced, so are wilbur and dream, so i speedran writing this, so tommy is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edgar_Allen_No/pseuds/Edgar_Allen_No
Summary: Tommy apparently died and I'm sad so I speedran thisTommy just straight up dies in this like he did in the stream rip
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	tommy just died wtf

**Author's Note:**

> pls keep in mind that i haven't watched the stream yet, this is just based on my own thoughts about death and what my friend told me about the stream k cool :]

/////

it goes, all my troubles on a burning pile  
all lit up and i start to smile  
if i, catch fire then i change my aim  
throw my troubles at the pearly gates

/////

Tommy flinched as he felt more punches incoming, as the pounding in his head grew and grew, as the static noise became much too loud, as the colors blurred and his vision shook, as he thought he was finally dying. He thought that maybe he should’ve seen this coming, that maybe this was deserved, that maybe he should’ve been prepared to die the second he stepped into the prison to see Dream for the final time. Tommy wasn’t sure if he was still being hit now, his body felt numb, his mind felt numb, everything felt numb. The only thing he could process was the dull throb of pain from somewhere near the back of his skull and the mindless tingling from some place on his body he couldn’t pinpoint. 

Had he hit the floor yet? He might have. Maybe that’s where the pain was from, maybe he hit his head on the ground after he fell. Falling should’ve hurt a lot more, the floor was obsidian after all, but he only felt a small, pulsing edge of pain that seemed like it came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Tommy had to be on the ground by now, but was Dream still hitting him? He didn’t think so, he couldn’t feel anything… maybe he was already dead? No, no, because why would he still be conscious? Although maybe he wasn’t even conscious, maybe he had passed out and that’s why he couldn’t feel anything. 

He thought to open his eyes, but his body wouldn’t listen. 

He thought to raise his arms, block any more oncoming hits, but his body wouldn’t listen. 

He thought to get up, to try and fight back, but his body wouldn’t listen. 

He thought to try and yell for Sam, or anyone, but his body wouldn’t listen. 

He thought to maybe even try to swim through the lava to escape, maybe then he’d actually feel something again, but his body wouldn’t listen.

Tommy just wanted this to be over, he didn’t want to feel every second of this experience, but he didn’t want to feel nothing either. Maybe he wasn’t dead yet, after all he was still thinking, he still had conscious thought and he could still vaguely feel something, but maybe that’s what death was? Maybe death was just a void of opaque nothing that you could barely feel and you were only left with darkness and your own thoughts. 

Somewhere far away, Tommy heard a voice laughing, and it wasn’t his. It sounded like Dream, he thought at least. Tommy could barely remember what his tormenter sounded like and he wondered why. Was he actually dead and becoming a ghost and he was just supposed to think until he couldn’t remember anything? Maybe, but Tommy didn’t want to be a ghost, he didn’t want to come back, he didn’t want to cause unintentional and extra pain for those that loved him, if there were any. Well… maybe Tubbo. Tubbo would probably miss him, he hoped at least. Why wouldn’t Tubbo miss him, they were best friends, right? Maybe not. Maybe Tubbo was best friends with Ranboo now. Maybe Tommy was never Tubbo’s best friend even though Tubbo was always Tommy’s. Tommy had never had a best friend before Tubbo. He guessed he wouldn’t have one after now either.

Tommy didn’t want to die, not like that. He wanted to go out in style, like a warrior, like a soldier, like a legend, not by getting beat and beat and beat by his long time tormenter, the cause of much of his trauma, at 16. He was still a kid and he just wanted to live. 

Tommy wanted to learn to become friends with Ranboo and overcome his jealousy. He wanted to stay with Tubbo and be best friends and laugh and make fun and be kids like they were never able to. He wanted to apologize to Techno. He wanted to see Wilbur again. He wanted to get a hug from his father again. He wanted to open his hotel. He wanted to do tasks for Sam Nook again. He wanted to live a full life. He wanted to get over his trauma. He wanted to read a book in one sitting. He wanted to learn how to ride a horse bareback. He wanted to get another pet cow. He wanted to see Tubbo create his dream bee farm. He wanted to see how tall Ranboo would get if he wasn’t done growing. He wanted to do so much and see so much and just… live.

But dreams were always meant to stay dreams, weren’t they? People aren’t supposed to live to see their potential all the way through, they aren’t supposed to do whatever they set out to because then what would be the point of goals if everything could be achieved by everyone? Tommy always tried not to set too unrealistic of goals, he just wanted to live his life day by day and see where the wind took him. At first, he didn’t really like not knowing what would occur next, or what would come of the SMP, or what would happen to his friends, but then he taught himself patience. And though it might not show, Tommy really was a patient person, he went with the flow of the tide and the curves of the wind and he didn’t think twice about following it. If his heart went somewhere, he would follow and he thought that to be perhaps both his heroic trait and his fatal flaw. 

“Open your eyes, Tommy,” a voice said, breaking into Tommy’s thoughts, barging it’s way into his monologue. He couldn’t pinpoint who had said it and he thought he should know, but he just didn’t. It bothered him, and he thought maybe opening his eyes would gift him the privilege of knowing who was talking to him, but once again, his body wasn’t responding. He thought maybe it was Dream speaking to him, but that didn’t sit right with him, it didn’t seem correct.

“I can’t,” he responded, feeling his throat close up and panic settle in when he realized he really could not open his eyes, he tried and he tried, but they wouldn’t open.

“You can,” replied a different voice than before, it was more rough where the other was soft, it held stories of broken bottles and torn up throats where the other’s held flickering flames and teared up eyes. Tommy didn’t like this second voice, it gave him goosebumps, it screamed the poisons of death and trauma into his ears and breathed the scent of brutal aggression. The other voice whispered ambrosia and golden nectar and let him inhale the scent of a burning fireplace. 

“I can’t,” he repeated, tears finally slipping out of his eyes and he couldn’t stop them. He hated crying, but never would he think he’d cry over being unable to control his body and it made him feel weak. He couldn’t even open his eyes, what good could he have been against Dream? It was stupid, just open his eyes and all would be better, but he couldn’t, they were sewn shut, clamped closed by the devil of his past. He didn’t want to open his eyes, what if the voices were from Dream and it was all just a trick, of his mind or from Dream’s sleeve, he didn’t know and he didn’t want to find out.

“Open them, you can do it,” the first voice said again and suddenly a weight was lifted, Tommy was free and he could open his eyes, he felt the soft and warm feeling of being hugged as he was enveloped in the voice, it flowed around him and lifted his limp body, let his arms fall to his side and his legs rest. It swirled around him and put fresh air into his lungs, expanding them so much Tommy felt like he could fly had the oxygen been helium.

Tommy opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. He was blinded by white, it was everywhere and everything and he couldn’t differentiate one thing from another because every single thing in his vision was white. 

He slowly opened them again. Tommy flinched from the brightness of it all before his eyes adjusted and he could see again. He was somewhere in front of a castle, all white brick and stone and towering edges. He didn’t recognize where he was, he could barely even remember what had happened before he got there, he couldn’t even remember how he got there. It was a strange place, he had no memories of it, he couldn’t pinpoint where in the world he was, if he was even in his world anymore.

“You did it, good job, Tommy,” a strange voice said.

“What did I do?” Tommy responded, turning to see two tall figures behind him. One in what looked to be a long, gray overcoat covered in holes that looked to be from fire, with fluffy hair poking out from underneath a lighter gray beanie. He seemed to be floating, and when Tommy looked to his feet, he saw that his legs faded out into nothing, thinning into a small wisp of swirling grays and white. 

The other man had horns, that was the only thing Tommy really felt noticeable aside from the gray, gray, and gray three-piece suit. He had a smirk on his face, all sharp edges and sharper teeth. He was floating in the same way that the first one was, no feet, only space beneath them.

They seemed familiar in a way Tommy couldn’t remember.

“Who are you?” He had asked, trying to find clarity. 

He got no response other than a short laugh from each, a chuckle and a cackle.

“You’ll remember soon enough, Tommy,” The first man had answered. Tommy was confused, but he paid no mind to that as both men each put one hand on one of his shoulders and another on his lower back, starting to guide him towards the castle.

“Welcome to the inbetween, Tommy, your new home.”

/////

icarus is flying too close to the sun  
icarus's life, it has only just begun  
it's just begun

/////

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha ik the inbetween isn't really the afterlife but it just worked okay aksdhfskjdfgsf


End file.
